


Glass shard

by Jaylad



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Adopted Child, Adopted Jason Todd, Adopted Sibling Relationship, Adoption, Alfred Pennyworth is the Best, Angst, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Bruce Wayne adopts Jason Todd, Bruce Wayne is a Good Parent, Child Abuse, Father-Son Relationship, Good Grandparent Alfred Pennyworth, Homelessness, Hurt Jason Todd, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Jason Todd Deserves Happiness, Jason Todd Feels, Jason Todd Has Issues, Jason Todd Needs A Hug, Kid Jason Todd, Past Child Abuse, Protective Dick Grayson, Protective Parent Bruce Wayne, Street Rat Jason Todd, book worm Jason Todd, homeless
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-30
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:42:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26733802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaylad/pseuds/Jaylad
Summary: “He had mouthed off to Batman. Oh god, that is Batman. He is fucking dead. No matter what he does he’s so fucked. Batman can’t be beat, he’s not some rich prick who thinks kicking tire robbing kids is fun. He is Batman, and Jason Todd just robbed him of three tires.”A Jason gets adopted story with a lot of angst and h/c but with a few twists. Like when Catherine died Willis got out of jail and Jason had to live with him for a while. And while living with him the abuse got worseHoping to update two times a week so yell at me if I don’t
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Alfred Pennyworth, Dick Grayson & Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 29
Kudos: 344





	1. The car

Jason looked up at the dark imposing car, tucked away in his alley. He would never had spotted if he hadn’t of been fucking around with a sharp piece of glass. Flicking it in between his pointer finger and middle finger. 

The car, well actually not car, tank had driven right over his tiny cardboard home. The shopping cart, which he had slightly torn apart to better hold up his flimsy cardboard teepee, had been dented and shoved on it side. His cardboard had not farred any better, but that didn’t entirely worry him, it had started to grow mold on the side from how damp it had become from all the resent rains, that veered on sow and hail. 

What really worried Jason though was his pittieful pile of food, which he had stored in the lower part of his shopping cart, was completely missing. Most likely found by the stray cats, dogs and raccoons that also shared the alleyway.

Jason knew he was fucked. Winter in Gotham always got horrible two weeks before Christmas, rain turned into snow, snow turned into hail, and hail turned into a four feet deep snow storm. And storms like that could easily wipe out more then half of the homeless population. Esspiecly the cases like his, no matter the weather he refused to enter a homeless shelter. He had tried that once. A rookie mistake, all shelters anywhere near Gotham were only fronts for trafficking.

Jason flicked the glass from his pointer to his thumb, and then up to his ring finger. The green/blue shard passed easily through his skin. Nicking right in between his middle finger and thumb.

Jason dropped the glass, letting it tumble to the ground. And thrusted his dirty finger into his mouth. It was an awkward angle but Jason tried to bite down anway, to stop the pain. He already had enough, he didn’t need anymore.

The cut was deep, blood and dirt smothered his taste buds. And made his stomach growl. Jason pried his eyes away from his injured hand and onto the dirt alley ground. 

The piece of glass he had drouped lay only inches away from his foot. The moon shined bright tonight, one of the only things in Gotham that did, besides stolen diamonds and billionaire teeth, it shown so brightly that the glass reflected it off and onto a brand new untouched perfect bunch of tires, and rims.

Any apprehension that Jason had held towards the car was gone in an instance, instead all he could think about was how much those tires could for. Fifty bucks a piece, possibly more, but that would mean he would have to find some one to buy it not in the Crime Alley area. Street rats like him did not find tires like this and get away with stealing the them without pissing some one off. And he knew from experince the people buying tires like these from him didn’t want their name mixed in with that kind of shit.

But the person who owned this car clearly had money to spare. And really if they thought parking in a place like this was a good idea then thank god it was him who had found them and not some else. People here aren’t nice to eachother, and they defintanly aren’t nice to outsiders. 

Jason breathed in, then breathed out. “Im doing this. And i’m going to make enough money to feed me for a few weeks, and find a good place for winter.” 

Jason didn’t want to rob anyone, he wasn’t that type of person. That person was his father, and he was not his father. He’d rather be dead then be his father. But this person was probably only here for a bad reason. People with money never came to Crime Alley unless it was for fame, sex, drugs or a dare.

And judging by the way this car trying to be hidden it was drugs or sex. 

Jason scuffed. He could do this, assholes don’t deserve nice things.

And with that Jason turned and bolted out of the alley, down a damp street, with a flickering lamppost. And into another alley, this one much more overrun with rats. The legend has it the rats ate an old man alive here, but some also say that the rats are actually just spies for Batman, so Jason didn’t really trust either. 

But just in case he edged around the alley wall and made sure to steal clear of anything that looked slightly rat shaped.

Jason shuffled under a rusting, green dumpster, (he had checked for rats very carefully before going under), and pulled a brick up. The brick easily slid out from having been moved many times by Jason. And Jason very familiar with this hole didn’t waster a second shoving his hand into the hole, three inches deep, a foot long and five inched wide it was a perfect place to store anything remotely vablue. 

He kept his most treasured things in this hole. No one else had ever used this hole, besides him and his father. so he used it to house all of his money, 23.33, a picture of his mom that he had carefully sealed in a plastic baggie, and finally a napkin that he had used to write down the church they had burried his mom at, his writting was blotched with tears, but it didn’t matter, he wouldn’t have forgotten the address anyway.

Jasons hand grasped his old and dirty tire iron. He carefully pulled it from the hole. A giant bug scuttled up his hand, Jason wanted to flap his hand to get it off tbut there was no room to move. So instead he tried to breath on it, but the thing didn’t move an inch.

Jason didn’t want to waste anymore time, so he forget the bug and started to quickly scrambled out from under the dumpster, and back into the cold night air. 

Tire iron in hand he ducked out of the rat filled space. Jason sped back to the car, not wanting to waste a second more, he truly hoped the tank hadn’t left yet, or that the owner wasn’t coming back anytime soon. 

As it turned out Jason was lucky for once in his life. Because that beautiful tank sat just where he had left it. And god was it pretty, if Jason didn’t know better he would think it belonged to Batman himself. But that was dumb, if Wilis was here he would have smacked Jason for thinking dumb things like he always did, and procastinating on the tires. 

Jason didn’t like to think of Willis, but sometimes he really did need to get himself out of his own head. Even if he prided himself on only need him and him alone to survive the streets sometimes his dad came in handy, well the thought of him. No matter how cold it got and how hungery Jason got, he never, ever wished for his father. His mother sure, all the time. The few adults and freinds he ever acually had, yeah. But never his father, because at least he pain from the streets came from strangers, and at least he didn’t have to rely on the person that hurt him for his life. Now he got his own food, watched over his own home, and lived his own life not in fear of nights when Willis would come home drunk off his ass, and pissed at something him or his mom did.

“Better.” Jason mubbled as he kneeled down and started on the first tire.

“Better.” Jason said as he worked his way down to the third tire, knees scraped and bruised, arms so tired he thought they would never stop aching, and with a head in so much pain it made him nauseous and made his eyes blurr.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman and Jason finally meet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So not really any hc in this chap, but I promise it will be there

Jason rolled the third tire to a trash bagged filled corner, he could remember when he had first moved into this alley, how the trash stunk up the whole place. And if not being claimed by the Snakes, a smaller gang that didn’t really do much yet still managed to stay semi on top, then Jason would have left immediately. Jason didn’t smell the trash anymore, he would like to believe that because he had slept so close to the trash that he had been desensed to it, but realistically it was also because he smelled like a pile of trash

Hygiene wasn’t something really kept a close eye, it had never been a priority when he had lived with his mom, food had really been the main concern and it still was, but at a more high level. 

Jason didn’t miss the way people would turn their heads at the smell of him, and he wished he could say it didn’t bug him, but it did. When his mother hadn’t been sick she used to dress him up, spray a little bit of perfume, he liked sweeter smells, and take them to church. Everyone used to tell him how nice he had looked, and he preened under the praise. But now not a soul would get even a six foot distance to him, and it hurt. 

Jason kicked a heavy trash bag out of the way, and layed the third black tire with the rest of them, he bent down and reached for the bag of trash. Rotten something leaked out when he picked the bag up, and spilled on his hole covered jeans. Jason wrinkled his nose at it. But didn’t do anything about it, besides move the trash bag away and plop it on top of the tire. 

Something snapped behind Jason. Making him jump and whirl around, he clenched down tightly on his tire iron, his only weapon.

Jason scanned the alley, looking for what had spooked him, when he spotted a big black statue of a person. If Jason had believed in demons and ghosts like his mother had, he was sure he would have thought the man before him was a demon just by the way he stood, completely still.

Jason's heart sped up, and he crouched down. The demon-man stood in the way of his only exit.

“Those are mine.” he stated in a gruff voice. 

Jason snarled, watching his hands closely. “Don’t see ye’r name on it.”

The man seemed to consider this. 

“You don’t see my name on the car or on the tires?”

Jason tried to make himself smaller, and more threatening at the same time. He could tell it wasn’t working.

“I didn’t try and steal the car.”

The man raised his eyebrow under the black mask covering half of his face.

“So admit that you were trying to steal the tires off of my car.”

Jason didn’t know what this man wanted, a confession? How would that help him? Maybe stave off any guilt that he might have for beating up a scrawny 12 year old. 

“No, I said I wasn’t stealing ye’r car. At no point did I mention tires.” Jason jabbed the tire iron at him. “You brought up tires.” 

Jason didn’t particularly like talking to this man. But if it gave him a few more seconds to think before the demon-man beat the shit out of him he would take it.

Then the man did something Jason never would have expected him to do. He laughed, well it was more of a small chuckle. But if Willis would have heard him talking like that he would be modeling a black eye and plenty other of bruises for days.

Jason stared at him flabbergasted. Big blue eyes open wide looking at him with confusion, well the one that could open, he gotten in a fight over something dumb a few days ago and was still nursing a bruise from it. 

The man was quiet for a while before taking a completely silent step forward. Making Jason flinch dramatically backwards. 

The man's steps were so quiet that Jason did actually start considering his demon theory. And well that wasn’t happening, if he went to hell now, he knew that would mean he would see Willis again in a few years.

After seeing Jason flinch back so dramatically the man decided to keep his distance. Not moving again, but after seeing the man move Jason's brain put together that yes this man could move, and yes he was still a threat, even if he did laugh. Bad people laugh, Willis laughed all the time. Mainly at Jason, and not because of something Jason had said, (unless it was dumb and he was again making fun of Jason). 

Willis' friends also laughed, but it was also mainly at Jason or some crude joke they had made about a woman’s ass. Sometimes they would laugh while they all took turns burning Jason with their cigarettes, or something else just as cruel. 

So yes, laughing did not mean good. But this demon had laughed more with Jason then at him. Unless he was laughing at Jason trying very hard to buy himself some time. That was also a very good option. It had happened before.

The man coughed. And not excuse me or I've got something in my throat cough, but “i’ve gotten nothing more to say and you aren’t trying very hard to keep this conversation going so here’s your last chance”. And well it was awkward. 

Something Jason hadn’t expected. Which means demon-man has surprised him twice, and that wasn’t good. If Jason knew what to expect he could make sure it hurt less, or at least didn’t last. But he couldn’t figure a damn thing out with this guy, and Jason was about ready to just drop his only weapon, the tire iron, and beat the shit out of himself, so the dread of waiting could just leave. He truly did not know what to do with ‘awkward’. No one was ever awkward before they beat the shit out of him, angery, annoyed, even happy but never awkward.

Jason tilted his head ever so slightly in thought, he didn’t like making the first move, so he didn’t. He would be brash when he knew he needed it. He didn’t live to fuck himself over.

And finally demon-man spoke. “I need the tires.” he held his hand out like Jason could just plop all three tires in his leather, greyblack gloves. 

Jason shrank away from the hand. “Sorry, finders keepers. But if you need the money i’m sure some weird fuck out there would just die for a-.” Jason's eyes went up to the top of man’s head, when Jason saw the two completely straight and identical bat ears sticking up off the hood of his suit. 

Everyone knows who Batman is, even if you choose to believe if he’s really or not you have heard of him. When Jason was younger everyone assumed him a myth, but then he got a sidekick, (or a side chick depending on who you ask, the custom does make some suspicious), and Robin was seen a lot more. He even took selfies with some people in his earlier days, of course no one has seen Robin in months, and Batman has gotten a lot more tough on criminals. 

He had mouthed off to Batman. Ohh god, that is Batman. He is fucking dead. No matter what he does he’s so fucked, Batman can’t be beat, he is not just some rich prick who thinks kicking some kid who stole his tires is fun, he’s Batman, and Jason Todd had just robbed him of three tires. 

Jason’s breaths started to come out at rapid speed, stuttering out so fast that he forgot to breath, and then being unable to breath he desperately gasped like a fish out of water hoping for just the tiniest taste of salt water. 

Batman seemed to have also realized what was going on, but instead of understanding he was more confused, and Jason couldn’t tell why he was confused. He’s Batman, and Batman’s job is to bring justice, no matter what, no matter age, no matter gender or race. Willis had always cursed the ground that any hero walks, especially Batman. He would say how much easier it used to be to be a thug before Batman. 

Willis would walk around the small apartment waving a half filled, sometimes broken with sharp jagged edges, beer bottle, and just shit on Batman and everything he stands for. He used to lean in real close to Jason so they were almost nose to nose, place his hand on the lower back part of Jason's head, so his pinkie and ring finger touched Jason's neck, breath heavily with his disgusting alcoholic breath right on Jason's face, and whisper that when, not if, when Jason fucks up on a job he would leave him with Batman.

He would prance around Jason’s little nine year old body telling stories after stories of what Batman had done to Willi’s other friends. How he had beat them black and blue, even Little John who had just turned eighteen at the time hadn’t been spared. Actually for him it had been worse, because it angered Batman so much to see kids getting into gangs that he had tried to fix Jonns mistakes with his fists. 

He would lean down in to Jason's face, shove and scream at him, tell him that the only reason he hit Jason was because of Batman. If Batman would just let them work and leave then be then he wouldn’t be so mad.

Jason always thought it had been to make him hate Batman, or maybe to keep him from snitching on Willis because even if he had told one person Batman could find out, and if Willis, his own father could hit him and leave bruises, then what would Batman do? Jason also ran the drugs, he would help his father and make his keep, so therefore he was a criminal at age nine. And Batman did not like criminals.

But Batman hadn’t done a thing besides watch Jason panic. He looked like he was thinking about what Jason didn’t know, but it probably ended with him in pain so he didn;t really want to know.

And finally it seemed as if Batman had come to a decision. He straightened up, he did not take a step forward but his shadow did, and Jason scuttled back anyway. If he had any pride left, then he surely would have been embarrassed of cowering from a shadow, but he didn’t.

“I need my tires to get home.” he stated, but his voice wasn’t as gruff as before, instead it held a sweater tone, like he was talking to an abused puppy. And by the way that Jason hid from a shadow he might as well have been an abused puppy.

Jason fled away from his outstretched hand, and the tires hidden under mounds of trash, instead he pressed closer to his fallen over shopping cart. 

“Yeah-h-h.” he stuttered anxiously. “Take it, take it, it's yours.” he flapped his hands desperately at the tires. ducking his head he tried to appear smaller so Batman would know he wouldn’t put up a fight over the tires anymore. If this meant Batman had decided going home was easier then beating on Jason he would gladly give up the tires. Starving was better then seeing the rath of Batman full force, and at him.

Batman mused this over for a second. “I thought they didn’t have my name on them.”

Maybe if Jason hadn’t been seconds away from a break down he would have realized that Batman had been teasing him, but to Jason it looked far more like a game his father and his father's friends would play. See how much they could push Jason, and how far they could make him go back on what he had said.

Willis always excused his behavior by saying Jason was asking for it by being so brash and loud. And maybe he was right, Jason used to speak all the time without thinking. But he learned his lesson, and had kicked that habit to the curb as fast as he could.

Batman must have caught on to his trouble to speak, because he stopped waiting for Jason to reply, and cleared up his words some. “I was teasing.” 

Jason hunched shoulders, relaxed some, but instantly struck back up again when he continued to talk.

“But you are right, they don’t have my name, and therefore I have no proof of ownership-.” 

Jason snorted, besides his car sitting right next to them missing three tires that look the same as the ones he had stolen Jason was sure the man had a hundred different easy ways to prove he had stolen the tires.

“So I would like to buy you a meal for one tire.” 

Jason perked up at the thought of a meal, but instantly perked back down when he realized how easily Batman could drug his food.

“Find you a warm place to stay for a few days.” 

to Jason this was sounding a lot like a kidnaping, but he didn’t open his mouth, he knew Batman was easier on the ones that cooperated.

“And for the last tire I will pay for it.” Batman whipped out a nice looking wallet with a bat symbol hand sewn on, from the wallet he pulled out ten crisp twenty dollar bills.

Jason almost drooled at the sight of all that money just so easy whipped out. Thank gods he’s older now, younger him would have shaken on this idea in seconds. But he knew better now. This deal held nothing for Batman. You only dealt with people like this when you couldn’t use force, and Batman could easily use force. Nothing was stopping him. The only theory that Jason could come up with is that Batman didn’t want Jason to spread the word that he attacked kids. But its not like Jason would tell, he wasn’t a snitch, and even if he no one would believe.

Batman, Jason realized, had been waiting patiently for an answer. “Sounds like a shit deal.”

“You would make more than $200 for one tire?” Batman reached for his wallet again.

Jason was tempted to try and scam him, and he almost did, but caught himself quickly. 

“No, less. Probably only $150 for all four.” he quickly rushed out. He didn’t want Batman to think he was at all trying at foul play. 

“So you need more? Because that's fine. I'll pay $200 for every tire plus the rest of the deal.” 

Jason desperately shook his head.

Batman stared at him for a little but longer. 

“Your skinny-.” 

“No shit.” Jason snarkely cut him off, before slapping a hand over his mouth in horror. His eyes seemed to get even wider if that was possible, and he stared at Batman. Waiting for him to strike, surely he wouldn’t let Jason get away with being rude and snarky when alll Batman was being is merciful, even if his mercy only came from a place of malice. 

But again Batman surprised him, with a small smile. And waiting for a second to see if Jason would continue talking before finishing his thought.

“So at least let me buy you a meal.”

Jason waited, he stayed very still. He had read once about animals stay completely still so the predator chasing them lost sight. He wished Batman would lose sight of him. Or that someone would rob a bank. There’s always crime here, it called Crime Alley for a reason, yet just now it was completely silent. Not even a late night shriek of drunk teens.

Jason almost shook his head instead of talking to decline Batman's question, being out on the streets must have really fucked with all he had learned. His dad would have hit him with a belt for that kind of disrespect.

“I'm good, I got food at home. Just take your damn tires.” hopefully that ‘at home comment’ would make Batman leave him alone. If he didn’t a lot of other people to find out he beat on kids then Jason at least having one adult watching his back would hopfully get Batman to fuck off. 

Maybe it was the way Jason tensed at home, or chose to shrink away from his glare. But Batman did not believe. But instead he walked closer to Jason, making sure to keep his hand down at his sides, and then knelt down to his heels when he reached the trash bags.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. Consider dropping a comment and say hi, comments are what really keep me writing. 
> 
> Also next chap in Bruce’s POV so keep an eye out for that


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bruce POV finally

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not edited if you find mistakes sorry

Bruce, because he couldn’t stay as Batman will talking to such a skittish child, watched as the kid cowered away from any movement or sound Bruce made. And the kid, he really need to learn this kids name, seemed even more frightened to find out he was talking with Batman. That sent alarm bells dinging all over Bruce’s head, the only people that should quake at the sight of Bruce are criminals, not 4’5 child stealing the tires off of the Batmobile to survive.

At times like these he wished he had Dick with him. Dick always knew what to say to calm down others. He was the people person, Bruce was just the force behind him. 

Sighing, Bruce realized he wouldn’t be having a conversation with this kid, he is much to skittish, and most likely wouldn’t be making any decisions on Bruce's food offer. 

So Bruce stalked forward, trying to keep his posture as unthreatening as possible, hunching on himself so his shoulders weren’t as broad, keeping his hands close to his sides, and in view of the kid. But even then the child did not let up with his cowering posture.

Bruce took five long steps, until he stood above the trash bags. He kneeled down on his heels, and with two fingers carefully pulled the one trash bag off the tire he had caught the child stealing. 

The bag leaked, but thankfully not on him. He threw it to the side. The kid flinched in the edge of his vision. But otherwise didn’t attempt any type of escape. He looked like he had just given up, and accepted his fate, fate of what, Bruce did not know.

Bruce did not turn to look at the boy, but instead addressed the tire as he talked, hoping that maybe with the all of his attention focused elsewhere the boy would calm down some. 

“Im going to have to borrow your tire iron, if thats alright with you? I left mine at the cave. I wasn’t aware I’d be needing it.”

The boy shuffled a little closer, but paused to talk.

“Maybe you should be more prepared to be robbed in a place literally called Crime Alley.” the boy sucked his breath really fast, as if he thought Bruce would do something about his sarcasm. Actually he probably did Bruce would try and ‘fix’ his mouth.

The boy stretched out his hand as far as it would, and dangle the very edge of the tire iron just in Bruce grasp. Bruce took it from his hand, and the boy jumped back as if he had been electrocuted.

“Maybe I should be. But to be far its actually Park Row.”

Even now that the boy had lost his weapon he seemed braver now. Maybe it was because Bruce’s hands were occupied with pulling each tire out from under the trash bags, and carefully aligning them in their designated spots.

“Only the weird rich people call it that.”

Bruce rolled the last tire in its spot.

“Well I called it Park Row, so does that mean i’m a weird person.”

The kid didn’t have to wait to think of a response, he spit it out at full speed, with a proud smile on his face. 

“Well you do dress up as a leather bat at night.” he held up one finger to list his first thought. “And you did just offer me $200 hundred bucks per tire, so.” He shrugged his shoulders.

Bruce liked this, this was the kid hiding behind fear, snarky and cute. He was really cute. Curly black hair, that had frizzed all over his head from not being washed in ages. Scruffy clothes and a well loved red sweater draped across his thin body, dirt coated cheeks, and baby blue eyes, all came together to make an adorable child. Well one eye actually, the other was swelling shut. 

When the child got more comfortable with him he would need to take care of it. The bruise didn’t look that old, but it wasn’t fresh. Most likely only a few days old.

Bruce reached for the tire iron, only to realize he didn’t have any of the bolts. He hoped The kid had kept those. You hardly got anything for bolts, but Bruce’s were special. Handmade and fitted to perfection for each tire. He had spares but after recently changing up the design for better traction, he worried a few of the bolts wouldn’t fit how he liked.

“Did you still have the bolts?” 

The kid jumped a little at Bruce interrupting the silence that had taken over them. Bruce chose to ignore it.

“Uhh, yea.” The kid turned his back to Bruce, and reached into the beat up cart behind him. It was the first time he had let himself stop watching Bruce like a hawk, and it ade Bruce's heart give a little flutter, the same flutter he had felt the first time Dick had laughed after his parents death. 

“Let me just-” The kid mumbled, as he dug around in the cart ,but then cut himself off with a little trumphent noise at finding the bolts. 

“You wouldn’t happen to know which went to which would you?”

The kid nervously shook his head, and grumbled under his breath. “Not my car, not my responsibility, I just sell the tires.”

Bruce ignored him, he said it to himself, not Bruce. Bruce didn’t want him to freak out thinking Bruce was mad at him for something that could be perceived as rude.

Bruce accepted the bolts from Jason's hands. This time Jason didn’t immediately jump away from him. 

That wasn’t to say that the kid stayed near, he stood just out of arms reach, tensed and ready to jump in a second. He seemed to be watching Bruce compare the bolts to their resting place, if they fit , which they rarely did. The car was built to confuse, but apparently he hadn’t taken in tiring stealing kids.

Bruce used the childs curiosity to his advantige. Angling his body so the kid could see the bolts easier. He was surprised he was even interested, this was boring work. Dick would literally run away when he said it was time to do maintenance on their many vehicles. 

“How do you know what goes where?” the kid didn’t act like he was really talking to Bruce, more just thinking out loud.

But Bruce chose to answer anyway. “Most of it is memersation. But I left some clues when designing. If you look here at this one.” Bruce pointed to the butt of the bolt, and held it out for The kid to see. He leaned in closer to look at the bolt, and when done didn’t immediately jump back. More like leaned farther away with out actually moving his feet. 

The bolt that Bruce had shown had a picture of a bat on it, the hole it when it to also had a bat in front of it.

“So they all have pictures that patch with other designs?”

Bruce pulled another bolt up from the pile at his feet, he had already tried it allover the car and couldn’t find the correct hole it when into. He passed the bolt over to the child.

The kid took it very carefully, he ran his finger up and down it, before finding something intrigued, he ran his finger over the unnecessary notched that ran down the bolt, to help Bruce tell them apart.

“So they also have like ridges in them?” the kid asked, he flicked his gaze to meet Bruces for a second, before looking back down at Bruce’s hands.

“Yeah, good job.” he smiled at the kid, he was proud. It had even taken Dick some time to figure it out, of course he had been upside and swinging back and forth while singing lady gaga.

After his curiosity was quelled the kid went back to being quiet, and just observing Bruce. It had quickly become kind of weird. He wondered if the kid was sticking around for the deal, but doubted it. The child had reacted as if some had said they were going to kidnap him then kill him.

It only took Bruce a few seconds to remember that he was using the childs tire iron. And by the way he looked and acted, Bruce doubted he had much, and he definitely didn’t have another tire iron.

Bruce wanted to go back in time and beat his younger for thinking of this dumb car idea. Who would really steal the batmobile, and manage to take complete control over the System that so his only shot was the tires.

Only three of the forty some bolts had fitted, he had been crouching for over thirty minutes. Bruce gave an axerbaited sigh as the bolt he was trying to fit didn’t slide in like it should have.

“Damn it.” Bruce quietly muttered, as he dropped the bolt in the pile with the other undecided ones. That pile had quickly grown, taking must of the bolts.

The kid flinched back as if bruce had hit him when he heard Bruce talk. 

And bruce felt like a complete jack-ass for forgetting how spooked the kid was of him. He blamed it on how tired he was. Last night crime was out of control, and with Dick not being there to help he had to stay out until five, and the get up for work the next day at seven. 

“Im not going to be able to get these bolts on unless im out the cave.” he tried talking out loud, to see if the kid would calm done knowing what he was thinking. “Guess use the blow up ones, not as fun though.” 

he was hopeful the kid would ask about the bull up things. But he didn’t instead he cowered in his corner, waiting for Bruce to lash out at him. Something Bruce would never do.

Bruce stood up from where he had been crouching, and reach towards the door handle. The door sensing his glove coming close instantly opened. 

Bruce did not the tire iron down, he know it was the only reason that the child hadn’t bolted yet, and even now he looked as if he was debating it. 

Glancing to Bruce, then to the exist, then to his tire iron. 

Bruce reached around the passenger side and flicked a small switch, labled “NO DICK” a lot of things where labled that around the car. Everytime he saw the small touches that stayed in his life after his son had left he hurt.

A quiet hissing noise later and the car had three fully futioning wheels later his car wazs reading to take him back to his home. Food, take him to ge the child a full meal. He should probably point the car on oatpilot moad.

“Batburgers?” bruce asked.

The child tilted his head like a confused puppy. He had done that twice now. And it was freaking adorable. 

He really needed to sleep.

“What?” 

“Food, batburgers. They make semi-decent food. Plus no one really cares what happen over there.” And it was Dicks favorite place to eat, he hadn’t been there since. He missed eating junk food with some one after a hard night of patrol.

“But-t-t-t.” the kid gestured at the his car, and the unused tires laying on the ground. “You already have. You didn’t use the ones I-.” he cut himself off again.

“Im still going to use them, and I need the bolts so the deal is still on.”

The child stared at him. He looked almost hurt, and fear flashed in his eyes, hidden behind frustration. At what? Bruce had no idea.

“I ‘ave you ye’r fucking tires back, I didn’t fight, I let you use my tire iron, and I’m sorry! Why won’t you leave me alone! Im sorry! I wouldn’t have done it if I ‘ad known you were Batman! I just wanna leave, just let me go. Im sorry.” his screams turned into pathetic sniffles at the end.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Would you guys like it more if I had a scheduled day or days which I update so you can predict or keep it as me just randomly updating


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason finally arrives at the cave, but his life can never be a smooth road

Jason didn’t know why he had yelled. Batman was just being so confusing. And kept talking about food and the deal like it was a good thing. And Jason was so fucking tired and hungry. He wished Batman would just leave. He had tires that just popped from his car. He ha’n’t even needed the tires.

Breathing started becoming hard. He couldn’t tell if it came from all the screaming he had done or the state of constant panic he had been in for a whole hour. 

Batman stared him down, still keeping a strong grip on Jason’s tire iron. And Jason at this point was ready to just leave it. If finding another one wouldn’t be such a hassle then he would have been long gone. Finding another one that Cathrine To `dd has signed was going to be impossible.

Jason waited for Batman to make his move. Swing Jason's own tire iron at him, use it to turn Jason into a pile of black and blues. 

He didn’t, instead, he let out a long sigh, the tired kind, the kind that one of the girls would give when a rougher John would stop by. 

“Kid you’re skin and bones, it’s going to snow in the next three days, according to the weather channel, and all you’re in is jeans and a ripped up hoodie.” Jason gripped the pockets of his hoodie tightly. “All I want is for you to have a warm meal and find a nice place to wait out the cold.”

“Maybe I don’t care.” Batman hood twitched, Jason liked to think it was him raising an eyebrow at Jason’s stupidity. 

Jason fumbled for words, trying to back up what he had just said.

“Maybe I’m a meta and the cold doesn’t bother me.” 

Meta’s arent allowed in Gotham, everybody knows, oh god is Batman going to kick him. Where would he go, where could he go?

“Ok, Elsa, then why have you been shivering this entire time?”

Jason could vaguely remember Elsa was a movie, or maybe a character in the movie? 

Batman’s arm grasp eased up on his tire iron the more they talked. Jason eyes it for a second, then danced his eyes away again.

“Maybe I’m preparing to blow your brains out,” he said rather rudely.

Batman looked startled by his change of tone, only for a split second but it was good enough for Jason. He took off, lounging from his corner, and grabbing at his tire iron he yanked it out of Batman's grasp and used it to hit Batman’s knee cap. 

Jason didn’t even have time to start running out of the alley before Batman had snagged the back of his red hoodie. 

Jason twisted, turned and snapped like a fox caught in a trap but it was no use, Batman had a grip of steel. Fingers tightly dug into his hoodie. Every time he thrashed the collar of his hoodie would dig into his neck and choke him, Jason didn’t know if Batman had down it on purpose so he would a harder time getting away, but it was working.  
Jason could hear Batman telling him to calm down and stop thrashing but he didn’t listen, he was wiggling off of anxiety and adrenaline only. The choking feeling on his neck sent him into a panic, he twisted in an escape but it choked down tighter. 

His dad had choked him like that once, his big meaty hand had clamped down on Jason’s neck. He had leaned right into Jason's face in front of all his drunk friends and threatened him if he backtalked one more time he would ring Jason out like an alley cat. 

Jason had pride back then, he would snap at his dad rile him all up, he never really thought his dad would go through on his threats. Jason's mom had been there to pry his dad, scold him for talking at his son like that, lead his father away to their bedroom and Jason would get kicked out of the house for a few hours, told to wander the street and stay out of trouble. 

He hadn’t known what his mom was doing then, but he knows now. She calmed him with sex. Jason stopped riling his dad up when he got older. His mother tried to get his father to leave him alone but she wasn’t the same, misty-eyed and stumbling over her words, his father had no liking to her then, and Jason didn’t want him to. He never wanted his mom near his dad. She was too good for him, she should have kicked him to the curb, but Jason knew she couldn’t. 

“Kid. Hey, kid calm down.” 

Jason wasn’t listening, he had stopped thrashing. Dropped dead like a possum. Hoping Batman would think him dead and leave him in the alley. He doubted he would. Batman doesn’t kill. At least not that anyone has seen. Unless he kills in private. He might. Some people liked to do things in private. There were anxious poopers, Rick from Rick and Morty was an anxious pooper and he was genius. 

‘Course he guessed pooping and killing were different in some ways. 

Jason lolled his head like he was a ragdoll, and looked Batman in the eyes. 

“Are you an anxious killer?” 

He supposed it was the adrenaline wearing off, or maybe the starvation, could also be the sleep deprivation but he knew that wasn’t a question he would normally voice. It was just a thought deep from within his mind. 

Batman didn’t respond. He looked almost bewildered, he even dropped Jason’s hood. Jason supposed he probably was bewildered, he had just gone through twenty different personalities all at once. But it happened, situations that he didn’t have a personality assigned to made him nervous. He didn’t know which went where, and when you didn’t know that you got smacked.

“I don’t kill,” Batman finally answered. 

Jason supposed he should just stick with his question. Batman seemed more inclined to leave him be when they talked. 

“But are you?” He asked again, reputation was repu-winning. He would have to work on that if he was to sell it and make millions. 

“No.” 

“So you aren’t an anxious killer,” he clarified.

“No.” 

This man was supposed to be a fearsome myth and here he couldn’t form a two-word answer to Jason's question. His mother was would be disappointed, he was taught to always answer in full sentences, it seemed more polite. 

“So you are an anxious killer?” 

Batman shook his head, or maybe he tilted it, Jason couldn’t quite tell. 

“I'm not a killer.” 

“But you’re anxious.” 

Make him think while you think. You ask the questions, you don’t need to think on the answers. He still had his tire iron. He couldn’t run. But Batman didn’t seem too fearsome when he was answering stupid questions for no reason. People didn’t usually answer stupid questions from stupid kids for this long. 

“I'm not anxious.”

“So you’re a confident killer?” 

Batman sighed, it didn’t sound like the ‘fucking hell idiot child shut up before I bash your head in with my fists’ more ‘dear god what did a do to deceive this’ but still Jason jumped back. He knew no one wanted to answer dumb kids dumb questions for this long. 

“I don’t kill.”

Batman turned around from Jason and faced the car he pulled the passager side open. Jason watched him with curiosity, maybe he had chased him off with dumb questions. Unlikely, he was probably just grabbing some sanity wipes for when he smashes Jason's face in with his fists. 

No one ever saw Batman with bloody hands, yet he spent a considerable amount of time punching noses. Strange. 

Batman stared at him expectantly, like Jason was just going to hop in his car willy-nilly. Yeah fuck that, second locations killed. 

“Burgers.” 

Like burgers were going to get Jason to a second location. Well… he didn’t need to talk about that. If Batman was being real burgers didn’t sound horrible. And when he is murdered at least the autopsy report will show what he had eaten (if they even investigate) and they would go interview batburgers, good advertisement. 

Jason thought he might as well go. He couldn’t really see a real way to stall anymore, and he couldn’t see a way to get out of it. 

“If you’re going to kill may I get my things first?”

“I'm not going to kill you.”

“Yes,” he agreed merely so Batman would hush so he could think. “But can I get my things?”

Batman seemed to be thinking about it. He didn’t want the man to say no. he didn’t really ask for a lot, but he wanted his things. He truly didn’t want to go whining about ‘things’ but he wanted his mother's picture. 

“You can even creepily stalk me while I grab them. They’re just an alley over.” He thrusted his thumb at the alley wall that cut off the two alleys. 

“I’ll follow,” Batman agreed. Jason let out a sigh. Thank god he had agreed. 

Jason thrusted the tire iron over his shoulder and headed off to the alley. He could hear Batman behind him, the footsteps sounded forced like he wasn’t used to walking loudly down the brick-lined floors. Jason guessed he usually wasn’t, Batman was known for being a shadow you didn’t know was there until it was too late. 

Jason decided it was too cowardly to watch out for rats when Batman was right behind him. Unless he did make the rats work for him and the only reason he had let Jason go grab his things was to feed him to the rats. 

Maybe that's what happened to Robin. He had just disappeared randomly, maybe he pissed Batman off. Maybe Batman did really have a thing for kids, he hadn’t thought of that one yet. The thought scared him so much he considered trying to run again, but quickly shook that thought from his mind, it was never going to work. 

Batman looked over the alley, then back at Jason standing idly in the middle of it. “Where is your stuff?” it sounded like a question but Jason knew better. He wanted Jason to hurry up so he could stuff food down his thought, fatten him up then use him like a personal whore. Jason scoffed no thanks, if Batman so much as laid a hand on him he be gone, even if he couldn’t get free from the house he wouldn’t go back to then, never, ever ever, he’d rather die. 

“Somewhere,” he grumbled while mentally preparing to go through the trial of jamming himself under a dumpster, completely restraining his upper body and leaving his lower helpless out in the air. 

Never mind, new plan instead of going in face first like usual he slid the long side of his body under the dumpster in one quick motion. He flopped his other half until he was completely under, he debated just staying there and waiting for Batman to leave but realized Batman could probably shove the dumpster aside and grab him. 

Jason's dirty fingernails scrabble at the loose brick, from the strange angle he had forced himself in it was much more difficult. Finally, his pointer grabbed hold of a loose edge, he jammed his finger into the small wiggle area he had made and yanked up. The brick slid out of his place with a screech of stone on stone. 

Jason shove the brick next to him, he would put it back when he was done, he didn’t want someone else finding his safe hole while he was gone.

With his tire iron already out it was easy to squeeze his hand around to the rest of his possessions, he smooshed the napkin and the money in his hand but was careful with the picture of his mom, his only one and his most treasured possession.

Jason started to shuffle out, after putting his brick back. He almost regretted the way he hand wedged himself under, it seemed almost impossible to get out with one hand holding onto all of his things.

Jason turned his head to the front of the dumpster, and almost jumped back when he realized Batman's hand was right there, inches from his face. Jason shrunk back from it. Was he demanding Jason things? Should he bite him? Probably, or it might just make him mad.

“Do you need help out?” Batman asked him in his dumb gruff coddling a kitten voice. Jason wanted to spit on him, just to see what would happen, nothing good most likely. 

When Batman wasn’t answered or had his hand taken by Jason he removed it and back up, giving Jason room to fully wiggle out. Jason appreciated him backing up. 

Jason shook himself like a dog when he wiggled all the way out, it made him feel less dusty and dirty even if it was truly not doing anything, months of grime coated him. He never bathed himself in the winter, to risky.

Batman turned and walked away, not looking back to see if Jason would follow, he must assume Jason knew the best option was to trail after him like a lost dog. 

Batman opened the passager side door once more for Jason, and Jason didn’t try to make an excuse to avoid it anymore. If Barman followed through at least he would get a good meal before whatever happened, happened. 

Jason was weary and watched Batman the whole car ride, he wished he didn’t have to. Every time he went to glance out the window he was amazed at how fast they were going. The car was truly a beauty, completely silent besides the slight purr of an engine. He almost dozed off twice but was quick to blink his eyes back into focus.

Batman pulled the car in a tight turn, flying into the batburgers window line. Jason loved the ways the trees held to the road, no slipping or sliding they held perfectly even with ice coating the road.

Batman asked what he wanted and Jason shyly asked for a cheeseburger with a large fry and lemonade, he made sure to add please just incase.

Jason mouth watered when their food was handed out. Batman gave him the whole bag, having not ordered food for himself, Jason waited to see if Batman would tell him no eating in the car, but when he stayed silent Jason started shoveling giant bites of the burger into his mouth. His stomach made a noise of protest after he finished his burger, he paid it no mind, there was still a thing of fries and lemonade leftover and he was determined to have it in his stomach before he was murdered by Batman. 

“Slow down, you’ll get a stomach ache.”

Jason started coughing and almost choking when Batman spoke. He waited for more reprimanding, but when none came he started back into his food with a slower pace. 

When he got down to the last fry and realized that Batman had just fought crime all night without a meal he should probaly have been sharing. Jason felt a flare of red embarrassment flare across his neck and cheeks, how selfish he had been, his mother had taught him much better than this.

Jason held the fry out to Batman. “Would you like the last one?” He asked.

Batman considered for a while, Jason almost retracted his whole hand, of course, Batman wouldn’t want something a street rat had touched, he filthy. Who knew what deseases he was riddled with. 

Batman finally took the fry from him, Jason jerked his hand back in surprise not expecting him to grab it so fast.

“Thank you,” Batman said with fry still in his mouth. Jason wrinkled his nose at Batman's manners, a real disgrace to the human race. 

Batman drove in silence with Jason for five more minutes, Jason used that time to gaze around, eyes held open. He knows he shouldn’t be this loopy, shouldn’t sleep with a strange man next to him, but all of his defense skills that he took years to build up crumbled under the full stomach he currently had. 

He wondered if this was what books meant by the feeling of ‘hot cocoa by a fire on a cold rainy day with a good book’ it could very well be. 

Jason hugged his arms around his stomach, wishing the seat belt wasn’t in his way, it made him antsy to be tied down. He couldn’t seem to choose between a good feeling and panic. 

Jason hugged his stomach closer, was havin’ a full stomach supposed to hurt this much. No, it shouldn’t this wasn’t usual, he thought. He couldn’t really remember a time when his stomach was full. He guessed he had always been hungary in a way, maybe not just for food.

Jason had become so lost in thought he hadn’t realized they had passed through a water fall and into a giant cave. His eyes had blurred with the pain in his stomach, it was strangely like being hungery, but yet so different. 

He felt when the engine was cut, and recognized he should be worried, should be scanning area should be wondering where they were, but he was to invested in not puking out his guts. He realized now that he should have listened to Batman, should have stopped eating when he felt full, should have slowed down. Now he was going to puke everywhere. 

His door opened, all the weight he had leaned on the door was left on supported, and he fell to the ground, yet his arms didn’t shoot out to catch him, or maybe they did. He was feeling really dizzy.

Jason was vaguely aware of arms holding him up and calling for another person. He felt the food he had eaten only minutes ago resurfese, he tried to warn the person holding to but when he opened his moth he vomited everywhere. It was as if he couldn’t stop gagging, retching and shaking all while someone held him and let him puke on them. 

Jason couldn’t get his vision to focus, it kept swimming back and forth. The world was moving, Jason wondered if he suddenly stopped orbiting with the earth. Was that even how the earth worked? If he had finished school he probably would be able to figure it out, he really was an idiot like his dad always said. 

Jason was layed out on a cold metal surface, he thought that it most be moving otherwise his stomach wouldn’t feel like its own rollercoaster. He couldn’t figure out why a completely solid table would be moving on its own.

Jason tried to loll his head to the side of the cold table, while his sneck felt stiff he didn’t think that was the problem, something warm had started to press down on his neck making it stay in place. 

He tried to move the other direction, the same warm feeling cupped his neck holding it in place. 

Jason blinked his eyes sluggishly, not realizing they had dropped closed. he realized the warm feeling was a person, a black blob to be more exact, holding him still while another more peachy pale blob move above him. He heard flints of words being spoken, but they sounded to calm and nonsensical to be derected at him. He wondered if someone had released a skittish stray kitten somewhere. Why was the kitten named Jason? That was strange, he’s Jason.

“Master Jason it would be much more confortablet if you would calm.” 

Calm? From what he wondered. Why did he need to calm? He already felt calm, or maybe he didn’t. This was the calm his mother had explained, the haze, the sluggishness, time flashing, confusion. 

Jason jerked up. He got farther than he had with turning his head, the black blob who he realized was Batman, must have not been expecting it. Drugs, he had been drugged. The food, most likely. 

But why, to punish him? Had Batman found out about his drug-running, wanted him to feel what he was doing to others? That made sense, he wouldn’t be running drugs ever again. How could people pay money for this? It hurt, it hurt his stomach, it hurt his head. 

“Jason, champ settle,” someone tried to calm. Jason felt like he know who, he squinted his eyes as if it would help him pry the memory from inside his brain. The more he squinted the more he found the lights to harsh. But who was it, his dad had called him champ, only a few times when he was sober, or strangely happy after a drink. Jason savored those moments, it was the happiest they had all been, his dad would saunter in with a bunch of cash, promise to use it to get them out of the Alley, his mom would promise to sober up, let the drugs go for their new life. And stupid, stupid Jason believed them every time. His dad had blown the money by tomorrow, and his mom so devastated turned back to the pills. 

Why did his dad want him to ‘settle’ what could he mean by that? His dad never talked like that, if his dad wanted him still he told him so. And why would his dad call him champ if he was annoyed?

Why-

Jason puked, all over the side, he hadn’t realized that he was still sitting up. The world around him swam and he was vaguely aware of a gigantic dinosaur side-eyeing him. Or maybe he was going sideways, plummeting to the ground at an alarming rate. Where were the hands and blobs now?

Jason blinked again and the floor was right where he had last left it.

“Hospital - can’t - panic - upstairs - .” Jason’s ears couldn’t follow their conversation, he didn’t know what upstairs meant but it made the hair on the back of his neck prickle.

Jason felt arms wrap around him bridal style, he couldn’t ever remember being held like this, his mother certainly couldn’t and he doubts his dad would ever want to. 

Jason considered pressing away but the arms holding him was warm, and they had called him champ, only his dad did this. Maybe his dad was on a sober week again, he had those like every two years, and Jason couldn't really remember the last time he had gone on one. 

“Coul’n’t ‘eep the arpartmen’ Pa, sorry.” his dad would pissed that they were homeless unless his dad had found him to tell him he had gotten them another place. Jason squirmed for a moment, he didn’t want an apartment with his dad, he ran away from that. He doesn’t want that.

The arms held tighten as he kicked out, Jason stopped when they squeezed his stomach. It hurt, he knows the message, hold still. 

Jason slumped and let his head flop against his dad's chest, he tried to show his dad that he   
would listen, if him stopping himself from moving is what would get his dad to release his tight grip around Jason’s stomach then he was willing to completely stop breathing to reach full stillness.

Jason’s eyes squinted closed when harsher light took over his view, he wanted to turn and press his face into his dad's chest, but the grip that was now slack around his stomach was a good reminder to stay still. 

With his eyes closed it was harder to justify awakeness, if his dad was being nice now it probably meant that he was safe, until his mood switched back like a feather in the wind.

Jason let his body go completely limp, and let his brain quiet so sleep would take over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! don't be afraid to drop a comment


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